


Late with Lattes

by Dynamitecoco_puff



Series: Late with Lattes [1]
Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Coffee Shops, College, F/F, Femslash, Fluff, Modern AU, University
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-10
Updated: 2015-06-16
Packaged: 2018-04-03 20:34:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,702
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4114084
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dynamitecoco_puff/pseuds/Dynamitecoco_puff
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <em>They're late! They're late! For a very important date!</em>
</p><p> </p><p>In which clumsiness and scalding lattes help an interviewee and a professor convene.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

 

 

A sudden burst of chirping birds and vibrations on wood jolted Josephine from her sleep. Frantically, she scoured through her bedsheets to cease the nuisance emitting from her phone. Tapping the snooze button, she quickly glanced at the time.

 

9:15 A.M in white, bold letters glared at her in return.

 

She blinked her eyes for a few seconds, and rubbed them for good measure. When she looked again it read 9:16 AM.

 

“Heavens!” She yelled leaping out of her bed with the grace of a frightened gisele.

 

Josephine was _never_ late. She must have forgotten to set her alarm for an earlier time. She’d been up for hours the previous night, picking an outfit, practicing mock interview questions, and memorizing her small list of factoids about the university.

 

_Did you know that before Skyhold University’s mascot, the Griffon, went extinct, there was an occupation known as Griffon Riders? They rode together in battle, and the bond grew so strong between them that when a Rider died, the Griffon mourned them! Fascinating._

 

She scurried to the bathroom and looked disappointingly at herself. She awoke with drool crusted to the corners of her mouth. Her hair scarf fell away in the middle of her toss and turns of the night so her thick waves of hair sculpted with tangles of disarray.

 

"Not today..."

 

She whined as she grabbed her toothbrush. She brushed her teeth, a little too fast and rough and nicked the gums when she flossed. She winced when she swished around the mouthwash as it stung her disturbed flesh.

 

She brushed the knots from her hair, and sighed when it didn’t lay probably around her shoulders. She strummed her fingers on the bathroom counter and threw her hands up in defeat. Today wasn’t the day to try anything new, so she braided a part of her hair, and intermingled it with the rest of her thick locks into a side bun. Josephine turned her head slightly in different directions and looked at her angles in the mirror.

 

It’ll do.

 

Luckily the night before she picked an outfit to wear. She spent hours figuring out the perfect combination of pants, skirts, accessories, jewelry - She decided on a butterscotch cardigan over a simple white button-up shirt. She folded the sleeves of the button-up over the sleeves of the cardigan to her elbows. The black chiffon skirt flowed to her knees, and she wore light brown Oxford heels on her feet. She kept her earrings simple - pearls that caught the sunlight whenever she tilted her head, and accented her outfit with a light infinity scarf of multiple shades of yellow.

 

She collected her phone and keys and ran to the door and threw the strap of her purse over her shoulders. She closed the door to her apartment and sped walked towards the bus stop.

 

_I'm late, I'm late for_

_A very important date._

_No time to say hello, good-bye,_

_I'm late, I'm late, I'm late!_

 

She giggled to herself, half singing half muttering to the silly Alice in Wonderland lyrics. She indeed felt like the white rabbit, scurrying about.

 

“Oh, thank the creators,” she said breathlessly. The bus arrived the moment she did. She took her card out of her wallet and scanned it. Finding an open window seat nearest the middle, she half-fell, half-sat on the seat and slumped her shoulders in relief.

 

She took out a compact mirror and surveyed herself. She adjusted the stray hairs sticking out of her braid and bun, and applied a clear gloss to her lips. She nodded at herself - both in satisfaction of her appearance, and as a simple cheer.

 

She glanced out of the window looking at the metropolitan scenery, and pulled out her book, letting the sunrays guide her across the page.

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

For once, she wouldn’t be late. She picked out her clothes, the shoes, pre-set the coffee maker, and even set her alarm 30 minutes earlier than usual. Though she could never change the early morning scowl on her face after waking up for the day.

 

Dezi shuffled towards the bathroom and brushed her teeth. She shivered when she splashed cold water on her face, but the temperature of the water helped her wake. Dezi looked in the mirror. She picked up the small comb and a scooped up a small glob of hair gel with her finger, and styled her hair for the day. The sides of her hair was buzzed clean, and she styled it in a simple, short pompadour. She groomed her eyebrows and applied a thin, simple black eyeliner for her bright eyes. She brushed a whisper of a golden blush to give more warmth and bronze to her darker brown skin. She finished off her look with mascara, and chapstick that gave her lips a slight sheen.

 

Light gray skinny slacks with a sharp crease, and a light lavender straight cut button-down were her style of choice. Her black belt matched the leather of her watch, and the matte black loafers on her feet.

 

She made her way to the kitchen in hopes the coffee brewed on time. The aromatic warmth of a bold coffee that hypnotized and comforted her in the morning didn’t waft by her nose as usual. Instead when she sniffed the air, hoping for a tease of robust caffeine, she smelled a hint of lemon - left over from the vigorous cleaning session of the other day.

 

“Piece of fuckin’ shit…” she cursed aloud, smacking the coffee machine, “stupid machine.”

 

She plugged in the machine last night, she triple checked to make sure. Jabbing at some of its buttons and slapping it a few more times confirmed that the machine had officially died. She knew the tight feeling of her gut told her something was off. It prepared coffee for her yesterday morning and now it decided to die on her?

 

Dezi groaned. She grabbed her wallet and keys and headed out of the door. She thanked her past self for setting an early alarm. She had enough time to buy coffee across the street from the university.

 

The drive in could have killed her - or someone else, in a fit of rage. Bumper-to-bumper traffic was always the bane of Dezi’s career. Both the faculty and the students knew of her road rage - and tried their best to avoid being her passenger. She rolled her eyes and tapped her fingers impatiently on the steering wheel to the beat of the song playing on the radio. Then another car cut her off, almost clipping the front of her car and Dezi clenched her teeth and laid a heavy hand on her horn, simultaneously trying to drive, honk, and give the driver the finger at the same time.  

 

Once on campus, she parked at her designated spot marked, ‘TREVELYAN,’ near the front of the lot. A tree gave her shade on the sunny days which she never complained about, but the bird shit that came with that luxury was another thing.

 

She checked her watch, “10 minutes. Okay, not too bad. I still have some time to grab coffee, perhaps a bagel…” Dezi rubbed her stomach. No coffee and no food called for a bad day. The Dean could piss off if he gave her any lip about being late. Her students wouldn’t mind the wait. They had a mock exam today and needed any spare minute to study.

 

Dezi stood behind a group younger patrons deciding to get their fix of sugary overpriced coffee. She recognized a few faces as some of her students. When they stepped out of line to join the throng of other customers, they smiled at her nervously and clutched at their backpacks. She smiled back and tapped on the face of her watch.

Dezi stepped up to the counter and gave a wink to the cashier girl.

 

"Two hazelnut lattes?" The cashier asked, thanking the creators her darker skin hid her blush.

 

"You know it, Nadeen," Dezi smiled. No one stood behind Dezi in eager of coffee, so they chatted for a few minutes longer while she waited for her lattes to come up. Nadeen waved Dezi goodbye a little too enthusiastically as she left.  

 

 

Josephine wobbled off of the bus as it tried to speed away, almost rolling her ankle when stepping onto the cracked pavement. She huffed and fixed a loose strand of hair tickling her nose and checked for scuff marks on her heels.

 

She hurriedly walked to the corner of Lais and 3rd, focusing on nothing but arriving to her interview on time. Her brisk pace came to a halt, and she found herself on the ground littered with papers, books, and pens. A few hot drips of liquid splattered onto her shins, and a blustering scream drew her attention.

 

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me!” The voice cried out.

 

Josephine’s mouth widened into a gasp of horror when she slowly looked up from the ground. Another woman sat in front of her, covered in coffee and her face a twisted look of hatred and pain.

 

 


	3. Chapter 3

_Josephine’s mouth widened into a gasp of horror when she slowly looked up from the ground. Another woman sat in front of her, covered in coffee and a twisted look of hatred and pain..._

 

 

“Oh my-I-Oh creators I am _so sorry_ I wasn’t paying any attention and sometimes I can be such a klutz-oh your clothes!” Josephine said in a frenzy. She sprang upwards and fished some tissues out of her purse, trying to help blot the over abundance of stained cloth.

 

“Stop! Stopstopstop- _stop_!” Dezi yelled slapping Josephine’s hands away, “do you even know how much this costs me? And you ruined it! I need to get this dry cleaned! You _imbecile_ -you...you!” Dezi stood up finally peeling her eyes away from her shirt, and sharply looked at Josephine.

 

Josephine bit her lip and looked downward. She placed her hands clasped together in front of her, and didn’t say a word.

 

Dezi kept looked at the woman’s face. Her freckled bronzed skin with a hint of perspiration glowed in the sunlight. She noted her hair, probably once perfect now, in slight disarray as a few strays sprouted in places. She noticed the woman on the verge of tears, and realized she bit her lip trying to hold them from falling.    

 

“Shit,” she muttered and shivered from the clingy coldness of the spilt coffee on her shirt. She felt sticky, in need of a change. She also needed to get to her class and now but, she couldn’t leave the woman behind.

 

“Look I’m...i’m sorry. I have a bit of a temper, as you can tell-”

 

“A bit hm?” Josephine interrupted, smirking as she wiped the wetness from her eyes.

 

Dezi snorted a laugh then looked at her watch, “Well...i’m late. Now I’ll hear a mouthful from both the Dean and my students.”

 

Josephine perked up at the mention of the Dean, “You’re talking of SU, yes? I’m actually on my way there - well, I was. I’m late for my interview as well,” she fiddled with the end of her scarf, nibbling at her lip once more.

 

Dezi felt a small flutter in her stomach. She blinked and cleared her throat, trying to suppress a stammer.

 

“An interview? Ah right, the Dean did mention something like that to me. For the...fuckin’ creators! For the Assistant Dean position, yeah?” Dezi exclaimed.

 

Josephine beamed, “Correct. Though, I may not get the position. I’m ten minutes late. How can the Assistant Dean be so tardy?” She covered her head with her hands and groaned.

 

“Well, if you walk in his office with me, I can make up an excuse for you. I’m on his good side, for the time being at least,” Dezi grinned, and Josie took note of the way she slightly cocked her head to the left.

 

“No, no that’s okay! I’ve already ruined your shirt and taken up your time. I can’t ask you of this,” she waved her hands in some effort to shoo the invitation away. But it only made her cuter.

 

“Don’t worry about it, this isn’t my first tardiness. I still have no idea why he keeps me around...anyway. I was an ass, I can dry clean this. Let me make it up to you.”

 

Josephine crossed her arms, and lightly tapped one of her feet, “Fine. At least let me pay for it.”

 

Dezi knew she wouldn’t back down, and lifted her hands in surrender, “Okay, okay. Let’s go then, before he gives us _both_ a mouthful.”

 

 


	4. Chapter 4

They talked like old friends who came together again. Josephine learned that Dezi taught Esoteric Alchemy, focusing on old literature and modern symbolism. Dezi learned a snippet of Josephine’s history as a research associate, focusing strongly on the social sciences.

  
The women reached the university and the Dean’s office. Right as they walked in the secretary glared at Dezi.

 

“Yeah, I know, I’m late. Could you please stop trying to murder me with your eyes and tell the Dean his guest is here, and that I’m heading to class?”

 

The secretary called him, and Josephine jumped at the slamming of a door - heavy footsteps heading their way. A large man came bumbling down the hallway. Before the Dean could address Josephine, Dezi cut in with excuses.

 

Josephine marveled at the way she fabricated the story, and tried to stifle a laugh behind her mouth.

 

“...but anyway, this is…” Dezi shut her mouth tightly, mentally swearing at herself for not asking her name sooner.

 

“Josephine. Josephine Montilyet,” she took his hand in hers, “ Sir I humbly apologize for my tardiness, I hope to be-”

 

He waved her off with a smile, “Please, Ms. Montilyet, let’s not wait a moment longer. I’ve been very eager to meet with you. Your history is fascinating!”

 

She blushed, “The pleasure is all mine, sir.”

 

They turned to move down the hallway, but Dezi immediately went to block their path.

 

“Wait!” She yelled, followed by more glares and shushes, “Sorry. Josephine, can I talk with you for a moment?”

 

The Dean gave Dezi a tired look, and tapped the face of his watch, “You have one minute, Dezi. I’ll be in my office, Ms. Montilyet,” he left them and returned to his office.

 

“So...woud you ever want to, you know, grab a cup of coffee sometime? I prefer it not on any of my clothes. If not coffee then a bite to eat?” Dezi asked, the hope in her voice ever increasing. She actually trembled from the slight adrenaline rush. She rubbed her sweaty hands together then rubbed the back of her neck. She hadn’t been on a date in years, and she silently prayed that this woman before her said yes.

 

Josephine smiled, a mouth full of white teeth. She resisted a giggle, but tugged again at her scarf.

 

“I’d enjoy that, Ms...Dezi,” and held out her hand.

 

“Just, Dezi. Everyone calls me Dezi,” she took Josephine’s hand, and forced herself to breathe. Josephine’s hands were smooth as a lake in the calm of a Summer’s night. They were a little cool to the touch, but Dezi didn’t want to let go.

 

“Josie, then. Please,” Josephine looked into the taller woman’s eyes.  

 

They stood with a lull, still shaking each other’s hands. The secretary interrupted their moment with a condescending clearing of her throat. They immediately stepped away from each other. Smoothing areas of their clothes that didn’t need it.

 

“I should go,” they said at the same time.

 

They laughed, and waved goodbye. Dezi watched Josephine walk down the hallway and finally into the Dean’s office.

 

She sighed, letting the hand that touched silk fall to her side.

 

When she reached her classroom door, she took a look inside the small window, surveying the state of the class. Everyone still had their noses in their books, absorbing what knowledge they could.

 

Dezi felt her shirt, almost forgetting the stains and smell of stale coffee mixed with cotton embedded within. She thought of the clumsy Josephine and her heart began to beat from her chest. Perhaps she wouldn’t get it dry-cleaned after all.

 

 


End file.
